


But My Sorrow Has No Friend

by Barb Cummings (Rahirah)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9258716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahirah/pseuds/Barb%20Cummings
Summary: BtVS Comics Season 10 Issue #24.  The fight with the Soul Glutton goes down differently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the SB_Fag_Ends prompt "Thomas the Rhymer." The comics are where I get my angst on.

Buffy pieces out the hows of it later: The Soul Glutton lunging for Dawn, Spike throwing himself in the way. In the moment, all she sees is the look in his eyes: a revelation and a loss, all in one. But he keeps on fighting, till they've defeated the monsters and closed the portal and saved the world, again. 

As the dust settles, Spike turns to her, panting that way he does after a fight, even though he doesn't technically need to breathe. Everyone else is frozen, awaiting the conclusion of their last dance. She's circling him now, gauging her opening. They're both a bit banged up, but she's certain she can take him. If she wants to. Does she want to? Of course she doesn't. She can knock him out, tie him up, chain him to the wall, call Riley and get another chip installed, something, anything to bring him back – 

But she's no Janet, and he's not been stolen away. He's still right here. 

She raises the Scythe – can he hear her heart pounding? "Buffy," he says, voice low. "Don't." 

Ironically, that erases her doubts. Want is irrelevant. She knows what Spike – the real Spike – wanted her to do if this ever happened. "So now all of a sudden you're afraid to die?" she asks. Trying to keep it light. For Buffy Summers, killing-your-vampire-boyfriend, _again_ , values of light. "Even without a soul I never thought you were a coward, Spike." 

He grimaces, squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. She tells herself that they're different now – flatter, less human. But the truth is, they're just blue. Just as Angel's were always just brown. "That's not it." A muscle in his jaw flexes. "Souled me is a wanker." 

"Shut up," she snarls. 

Spike dodges her half-hearted swing, flashing into and out of game face in a startled instant. "Did you love him?" he asks. 

Did she? She's said the L-word in connection with Spike twice. The first time he blew her off, and the second time, she blew him off. If she really did love him, she'd have gotten up the courage at some point to revisit the issue, wouldn't she? If she's held off this long, she must have a good reason, and maybe that reason is that vampires with souls are still vampires, and souls are impermanent things at the best of times. Spike dodges again, sidestepping with supernal grace – he really is a better fighter without a soul, she thinks ruefully. Doesn't matter. She's better still. "That's none of your business." 

"Perhaps so. Like to think you held him in some degree of fond regard, though," he says. "I'd say held _me_ , but he doesn't do me the courtesy, so I don't see why I should return the favor." 

And he's hooking a foot out to trip her. She rolls into the fall and is on her feet again in seconds, but he grabs the haft of the Scythe as she comes up, not to fling it away (she's expecting that) but to aim the stake-end at his own chest. She falls back, hands dropping nerveless from the weapon. "Spike – " 

That look in his eyes isn't – what it looks like. He'd said so himself. His other self. Oh God why does this keep happening to her? He laughs, a short, ugly sound. "Either way, he's a wanker. Asking you to do his dirty work. He'd say this isn't love," he adds, conversational. "But buggered if I know what else to call it." 

And he's dust. Just like any other vampire. 

Buffy kneels there on the cavern floor for a long time, arms wrapped around herself. When she rises, her eyes are dry. There's no point in tears. She's not even sure who she'd be crying for. 

**End**


End file.
